


Back Against the Wall

by laylee



Category: Marvel (Movies), Marvel Avengers Movies Universe, The Avengers (2012)
Genre: Ficlet, Gen, M/M, Picfic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-09-09
Updated: 2012-09-08
Packaged: 2017-11-13 16:14:42
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 1,632
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/505362
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/laylee/pseuds/laylee
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“Stand over there,” Coulson says, pointing toward the wall.</p><p>Clint frowns at him. “What? Why?”</p><p>“Because I said so.”</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Stand Over There

**Author's Note:**

> Just a little something that I whipped up this afternoon, inspired by a photo of Jeremy Renner that I found on Tumblr. Now with super-duper second chapter!

 

 

“Stand over there,” Coulson says, pointing toward the wall.

Clint frowns at him. “What? Why?”

“Because I said so.”

“Not until you tell me why.”

“Do you always have to argue?”

“I’m not arguing, I just want to know why.”

Coulson sighs that put-upon sigh of his. The one he reserves especially for Clint.

“Just do as you’re told, Barton. For once in your life.”

Clint narrows his eyes at him, but he finally does as he’s asked. God knows why. They both know that only Coulson can get away with bossing him around like that and he’s still yet to fathom why he invariably obeys. He’s still squinting a little when Coulson whips his phone out of his pocket and snaps a photo.

“Jeez, boss, if I’d known I was going to have me picture took I’d have dressed up a little.”

Clint steps away from the wall and tries to take a look at it, but as always Coulson is way too fast for him. The phone is safely stowed away inside his jacket pocket and he’s striding down the hall toward the conference room before Clint can even grab a glimpse of it.

“Mind telling me what’s going on?” Clint asks, trotting a little to keep up.

Coulson doesn’t even break stride. “No.”


	2. A Moment of Madness

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It was a moment of madness, he reasons, but one he’ll never regret.

 

 

 

 

Phil knows that it's foolish and more than a little insane. But he spends so much of his life being sensible and on top of things that he figures that no one could fault him for being a little indulgent at times.

And really it was all Barton's fault, he reasoned. His fault for turning up to their mission briefing in well-worn jeans and a plain white t-shirt and that gray overcoat that Phil knew for a fact to be eminently soft and touchable and that had cost Clint a sizable amount of money from some upmarket menswear store in London. He'd been so proud of his purchase, Phil remembered, so very pleased with himself when he bounced into Phil’s office to show off his coat after he’d returned him from a job well done. And it was only because Phil knew that, until he'd joined SHIELD, Clint had never really had the wherewithal to buy himself nice things that he'd refrained from shooting off some sarcastic comment about sartorial choices and fashion plates.

For some reason that coat combined with the casual jeans and t-shirt and the barest hint of stubble on Clint's chin had caused something inside Phil's head to snap and before he could think about it, he was ordering Clint to stand against the wall as he took a photo of him with his phone.

Clint had wanted to know why. Of course he wanted to know why. Who wouldn’t? But Phil couldn't tell him - couldn't even begin to think of a plausible excuse as to why he suddenly felt the need to take a photo of Clint wearing that coat and those jeans - and so he just continued in his way with a hurriedly snapped "No." when Clint asked to see the photo.

That meeting was the most uncomfortable one Phil has ever sat through, what with his phone burning a hole through his jacket pocket combined with the looks Clint was shooting him across the conference room table. Clint’s shoulders had that ‘I’m not letting this go until you explain yourself’ kind of hunch, and Phil knew that even if he did manage to slip away without Barton following him, he’d have about twenty minutes tops before Clint turned up in his office with that look on his face. The one that told Phil that he was being an ass and just admit it goddamn it.

If he could have he would have fallen to his knees and kissed the ground when the meeting ended and Fury said, "Agent Coulson, can you accompany me back to my office to go over a few things."

The look Clint gave him as they filed out of the conference room told him quite clearly that this was not over and that eventually Phil would have to explain himself.

Two hours later Clint was on a plane to Beirut and they didn’t see each other for a month after that.

They never did have that conversation about the photo. Thankfully Phil never did have to explain how he later printed a copy of it and tucked it inside his wallet, hiding it between his driver’s licence and one of his less precious Captain America cards. It was a moment of madness, he reasons, but one he’ll never regret.

 


	3. You Could Have Just Asked

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Phil and Clint finally talk about the photo.

 

 

 

"You know, if you really wanted a photo of me you could have just asked."

"You say that now,"

Clint lifts his head from where it was resting on Phil's chest to look him in the eye. "I'm serious."

"I know you are. That's the scary thing."

"So…?" Clint ventures.

"So, what?"

Clint growls low in the back of his throat and resists the urge to smack him. He isn't sure if Phil is being deliberately obtuse or if he really does believe that Clint would not willingly give him anything he asked for.

"If I hadn't found it the photo…"

"Stole it from my wallet," Phil counters testily.

"Found it in a wallet that I was _given_ ," Clint reminds him.

"And don't think I won't be having words with Fury about _that_."

"Would you have ever said anything?" Clint asks again, a little more forcefully this time.

Phil shrugs, a tiny undetermined movement. "Yes, I would have. Eventually."

"But not then?"

"No," Phil agrees. "Not then. It was too soon. And it seemed inappropriate."

"Yeah, 'cause taking a photo of someone is always inappropriate."

"Depends on the photo," Phil points out dryly. "And the motivation for taking it."

"You had feelings," Clint says softly, and it isn't an accusation or anything, just a simple statement of fact.

"I had feelings," Phil whispers and Clint cannot even begin to describe the flood emotion that courses through him whenever Phil opens up to him like this. "But I didn't think I could do anything about it."

"Because you were my handler?"

"I didn't want to compromise you."

Clint shifts a little, resting his cheek on Phil's chest again as he slides his hand down over Phil's shoulder to come to rest on his bicep.

"Phil," he says, giving his arm a squeeze.

"Mmm?"

"That's a lame excuse and you know it."

Phil's chest rumbles beneath Clint's cheek as he chuffs a quiet laugh. "I know that now. Back then I wasn't so sure. I'd never…"

And there's a vague hint of uncertainty in Phil's voice that makes Clint pause. Phil Coulson is never uncertain, about anything. That Clint has somehow made him second guess himself is concerning.

"Phil" Clint says again, quiet and low as he presses a kiss into his chest. And then he waits because Phil will eventually tell him what he needs to know, but only when he's ready to.

"The right time never seemed to present its self," Phil finally says. "I took the photo and then…"

"And then you wouldn't talk about it," Clint says, poking him in the side.

"I wasn't sure if I _could_ talk about it," Phil counters as he swats Clint's hand away. "And then you were sent to Beirut that afternoon and then I was in Malibu when you got back. And then there was Belfast and after that New Mexico and then Stark, _again_ , and then…"

"And then, and then, and then," Clint mutters against Phil's throat before leaning it to suck a bruising kiss against it.

"Oh, _god_ , Clint!" Phil gasps as he tightens his hold on Clint and tugs him up to kiss him properly.

"I refuse to believe that we didn’t get together any sooner due to bad timing," Clint mutters as he starts trailing kisses down Phil's neck and shoulders.

"Timing did have a lot to do with it."

"And the fact that you were too chicken shit to actually come out and say something."

Phil's entire body goes still and Clint whacks himself mentally on the head for being such a dumbass. Because of course only a dumbass says something like that to the one person they cared about above all others when they were naked and in bed together for the very first time.

"Phil, I…" Clint starts, but before he can get any further with his apology he is silenced with a kiss.

"No, you're right," Phil says when they eventually pull apart. "I used the fact that you are – were - my subordinate as an excuse to not do or say anything because when it comes right down to it, apparently I'm not very brave after all."

"You're also kind of stupid if you think any of that really matters," Clint whispers, leaning forward to bracket Phil's face with his hands.

"Not doing yourself any favors, Barton," Phil mutters against his lips before drawing him in for another kiss.

Clint leans into the kiss, giving him self over to it completely and utterly. It still hasn't properly registered with him that he can have this, that Phil Coulson wants _him_ and all his quirks and foibles.

"You're the bravest man I know, Phil Coulson," Clint tells him as he burrows his face into the crook of Phil's neck. "Don't let anyone ever tell you otherwise."

Phil's arms tighten around his back, drawing him down and into a beautiful, comforting warmth.

"Not even you?"

Clint shakes his head, feeling the scratch of Phil's stubble against his cheek. "Especially not me."

"Oh. Okay then."

"I'm glad you kept the photo."

Phil kisses his temple, running his fingers through the hair on the back of Clint's head and says, "Yeah, me too."


End file.
